Relief
by SordidSense
Summary: Hermione has a late night at the library when she can't get a certain ginger haired boy out of her head. She decides to take steps to help her relax when she can't sleep.. WARNING: CONTAINS LEMON! Formerly a one-shot... now a Two-shot.
1. Insomnia

Summary: Hermione has a late night at the library when she can't get a certain ginger haired boy out of her head. She decides to take steps to help her relax when she can't sleep... One-shot.

WARNING: This story does contain a lemon... don't like, don't read!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of it's characters... just the lemony lemonade... mmmm.

A/N: This is my very first Fanfic story ever... so please be kind about the reviews... and let me know if I should make this a two-shot?

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Chapter One: Insomnia

Hermione sat alone in the dark recess of the restricted section of the library, away from listening ears or prying eyes. Her unruly brown mass of curls was piled high on her head into a French twist, held together by pencils; her stocking clad legs crossed at the ankles, her bright hazel eyes focused intently on the tome in front of her, furrowed in concentration. It was five minutes just past midnight, but she couldn't sleep, so she figured that some light reading would help ease her mind into a hazy state often felt previous to slumber. The library was complete empty, dark and cold, with a slight air of menace about it, but Hermione didn't mind, she was used to it; and to be quite honest what deserted and dark room didn't have a spooky appeal to it? She had read many books in the library, but the restricted section always held more interest for her; the other books just seemed too boring to her and did not help her chronic insomnia… Chronic. She had been coming here for a while.

Honestly, she knew the real reason she couldn't sleep, and it wasn't because she was steadily becoming an insomniac, and it wasn't due to boredom; she could always find something to do, from studying to knitting. No, it was because of the bizarre dreams she had been having; dreams that often centered on an annoying, rude, handsome, wonderfully beautiful ginger haired boy that she could never quite get out of her head. In her dreams Ron would confess his undying love to her at which she would spontaneously combust from surprise, shock, and even lust, into a pile of bright, glittery pink goo… Then she would wake up confused and not a little bit aroused. She had been in love with Ron for quite some time now, but couldn't find the courage to admit it to herself and even less courage to admit it to him. What would he see in her anyway? She was bossy, prudish and an insufferable know-it-all… or so many people called her, and he, despite all his faults, was perfect. But she was young, a teenager, who still suffered from the crippling side-effects of peer pressure and self-consciousness.

She sighed heavily and closed the book she was reading… it wasn't helping her much anyway; she would read a couple of lines before her thoughts drifted back to Ron and she would have to start all over again. She had just read the same paragraph for nearly half an hour now, she noticed as she glanced at her watch… it was half past twelve and she was strangely both exhausted and wide awake. Well, the book obviously wasn't going to help, so she decided to just walk back up to her dormitories, hopefully without getting caught, and try to force her body to get some sleep.

The hallways were deserted, except for the various paintings that hung on the walls, nearly all of their inhabitants slumbering away, and the ever-present and slightly imposing suits of armor that stared out at her in the foreboding darkness, their shields and chain mail that glistening an ethereal silver color in the sparse rays of moonlight. A cold draft blew in from the enormous stone windows, bringing the smells of late fall with it, a mixture of damp leaves and impending snow. Hermione drew ever closer to the painting of the Fat Lady who leaned against her gilded gold frame, snoring lightly, her face tranquil with the soothing calm of sleep… the soothing calm that had been evading Hermione for weeks now. Honestly, she needed to get her act together and either take a Dreamless Drought potion or fess up to Ron. If she continued on this way, her marks might suffer, and that was the very last thing that she ever wanted to happen, especially being the head of her class.

She apologized profusely to the Fat Lady who reprimanded her for being out of her dormitory so late, but mostly just for waking her up; the Lady had never really cared about the whereabouts of students late at night, and even less about their personal lives, so long as it didn't effect her or her lazy existence. The common room was completely deserted, as was expect so late at night, but the fire still crackled ablaze, as always, basking the room in a deep golden glow and provided warmth to everything in it. Hermione trudged past the various couches and chairs, glanced momentarily out at the dark expanses of the school grounds, and made her way slowly up the curved stairwell to her room. She made sure to be quiet as she entered the shadowy room, so as not to wake the other girls. (Lavender and Parvati could be quite bitchy when woken up from their "beauty sleep" as they called it… Hermione had learned that in her first year.) She walked over to her trunk that rested at the end of her bed and unlocked it with a hushed _alohamora_ spell before gathering her things and heading to the lavatory.

The scalding hot water felt so good against her tense back muscles and she stood there, stock-still, for a couple of minutes, letting the therapeutic effects of the water work the kinks from her upper back and shoulders. As she stood comforted by the heat on her weary body, her mind wandered back to Ron, and she couldn't stop the tightening she felt in her lower abdomen, nor the heat between her legs that always accompanied it. She hadn't fantasized about Ron whilst in the shower before, but she found even thinking his name, surrounded by the heat, wet and foggy steam of her shower made the experience more erotic than she felt possible… She also realized the more she thought about him, the harder it was to make the painfully delicious feeling aching in her thighs go away, and she could only conceive one solution to her problem.

She situated herself beneath the near-scorching water, heart pounding at an astounding rate, as her hands traveled from the tips of her soaking wet hair down her slim column of a neck, following the rivulets of water down over her collarbone to her perky breasts. She took one of her already pebbled pink nipples between her fingers and pinched slightly, gasping aloud as it sent an electric shock straight from her breast to her pussy. She felt a new kind of wetness gather between her lower lips, slick and threatening to spill out of her tight young body.

She bit back a moan as she continued the assault on her breast, switching between the two, as her right hand slithered downward over her flat, taught belly, stopping to dip her middle finger into her belly button before moving to tangle in her dripping patch of curls. She moved her feet apart slightly and leaned back against the wall, so that the shower head was directly above her and poured water down her body, before pushing the tip of her forefinger against her small clit and sliding it down her slit.

She couldn't hold in the mewl that formed in her throat and spilled out of her barely parted lips as she pushed a finger into her wet, blazing heat, pumping slowly in and out. She pulled on her nipples and bit her lip as she frantically rubbed her clit with her thumb and fucked herself with her finger, adding another, and yet another until she had three working away at her burning, throbbing tight pussy. She started to cry out little moans of "Oh, oh, oh!" as she abandoned her breasts to finger fuck herself with one hand, pumping in and out as hard as she could, curling her fingers upward towards her G-spot, and furiously rubbing her hardened and swollen clit with the palm of the other.

She knew that she was getting close and began to imagine that it wasn't her fingers inside her, but Ron's erect and eager dick, thrusting hard and deep, filling her up to the point she thought she might lose her mind. She imagined it was his pelvis pushing against her, rubbing her clit, and not the palm of her own hand. She desperately wished it was a mixture of his and her sweat clinging to her skin. She knew that she would only last a few more seconds and began to chant his name.

"Oh Ron, oh oh, fuck me, please," she whimpered softly as she pushed her fingers in as far as they would go and simultaneously pinching her clit gently. "Oh, oh my dear God… OH! FUCK… RON!!! Uh… Agh!"

She relaxed against the shower wall as she rode out her orgasm and let the now cold water bring her temperature down and wash away the fluids that had spilled out over thighs and down her legs. She brought her hand slowly up to her lips and sucked one finger inside.

_Doesn't taste too bad, but not really my cup of tea_, she thought as she licked the remainder of her cum off her fingers before finishing washing herself down and rinsing beneath the spray.

As she climbed out of the shower she toweled off quickly, as she was started getting cold fast, and slipped into her panties and nightgown, giving herself a quick check in the mirror. Her cheeks were still flushed and her eyes were bright, although she felt tired enough to sleep now. She made her away into the bedroom over to her designated four poster bed and lay beneath the covers, exhausted by her earlier activity, and allowed sleep to claim her.


	2. Confessions

Disclaimer: I own nothing… I'm just a poor college kid.

WARNING: This chapter contains a big ole lemon!!! Yummy yummy lemonade goodness.

A/N: I was just going to make this a one-shot, but encouragement from me readers made me change my mind, so now I'm making it a two-for!!! Big thanks to everyone who reviewed, especially ROONILWAZLIB101 for making me blush with your lovely comment. Oh… and I decided to try my hands at multiple perspectives, kind of… the story is still third person, but it interchanges from Ron and Hermione's POV… let me know if the POVs are confusing at all… and I'll try to fix them.

Summary: Hermione can't hold in her hidden affections any longer… what will Ron do?

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Chapter two: Confessions

Two months. It had been two laborious, tiring months since Hermione started having her constant bizarre dreams and fantasies about Ron. She had made a habit of drinking a Dreamless Drought every night before bed, but that just made her dreaming during the daytime predominantly worse. Several times she had to force her eyes away from him when she caught herself staring; at the breakfast table, in the common room, in Potions class, in the library, during Quidditch practice. She was beginning to think that if she didn't _do_ something very soon she might inevitably lose her mind, or spontaneously combust… Hey, it could happen; there have been instances.

It was Christmastime again at Hogwarts and Hermione was beginning to unravel from all of the stress brought on by her classes. She was taking twice the amount any average student would, thanks to the Time-Turner that Dumbledore had given her, and he infatuation… no, obsession… with Ron was only adding to the strain that always pushed down on her. She had to do something and she had to do it now. Luckily Ginny had invited her to stay the holiday with her at the Burrow, to which Hermione hastily agreed.

She was sitting in the Ron's room at the Burrow with Harry and him, attempting to study while also trying not to gaze too hard at Ron's forearms. He was wearing a maroon sweater that balanced out nicely with his shockingly red hair, with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, exposing his nicely formed muscles. He was talking to Harry about Quidditch and pulling on a thread that had come undone on the knee of his dark-wash jeans. She loved him in Muggle clothes, because they always fitted tighter than the school dress pants and the loose billowing robes deemed mandatory. She loved the way his jeans wrapped tightly around his lower body, accentuating both his ass and his package; although Hermione never dared to look too long, or too much, for fear that Ron would catch her, or that her heart would accidentally implode.

The small bedroom was beginning to darken as the day crept nearer and nearer to nightfall, basking the room in a romantic orange, rose glow. Hermione felt her body relax and her spirits lift as she looked around the small room, radiating warmth and color, her gaze finally settling on Ron's face, looking back at her with an expression she couldn't read; inquisitiveness maybe? She felt her cheeks heat up as they both looked away simultaneously and Ron engaged himself in conversation with Harry once more.

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_Why can't I stop looking at her?_ Ron thought as his eyes came to rest on Hermione's face as she look about his cramped and shabby bedroom with a tranquil expression on her countenance. _She's the same Hermione that she's always been… hasn't she?_

This was an outright lie and he knew it, and even felt shame, welcoming the burn in his face, as Hermione turned to look at him with those brilliant chocolate doe eyes that he had come to dream about for months now. She wasn't the same; she was older, softer, curvier, and much more beautiful than the skinny, bushy-haired, large-tooth adolescent she had been… although even then she was still cute, but in a childish way. Not like she is now, with her full breasts and her widened hip and flawless, creamy white skin; apart from the sparse sprinkling of golden freckles that lay across her nose. She was immaculate.

He had wanted to tell her that he loved her for what felt like forever now, but couldn't find the nerve. After all, what could she possibly see in him, anyway? He was poor who lived in an over-filled, cramped house and wore hand-me down clothes; he was a horrendous student, who procrastinated at ever chance and often received abysmal marks; he wasn't handsome, with his flaming red hair, constantly enflamed cheeks and lanky build. How in the bloody hell could he ever compare to her? After all, she was immaculate.

As he sat there next to Harry, not really listening to a word he was really saying, but instead grunting a response every now and then, he found it harder and _harder_ to "concentrate" being so close to Hermione, smelling her, feeling her body heat. He definitely needed a cold shower…. Now.

"It's starting to get late, Harry, don't you think?" He said, not really giving Harry time to answer, as he rose to his feet and stretched slightly. "I think I'm going to go take a shower before turning out to bed. I'll see you later Hermione. Goodnight."

He summoned his clothes with his wand, catching them effortlessly as he ambled towards the door, trying his damnedest not to touch Hermione as he also got up from the floor. The came face to face for a second as they waltzed around one another, giving Ron access to the door, and Ron felt his manhood strain as she gave him the sexiest look… was it lust? God he needed a shower.

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When Ron announced that he would be taking a shower, Hermione had an idea; a horrible, evil, delicious idea. She stood up as gracefully as she could as Ron made his way to the door, so he couldn't have to clamber over her, and he ended up circling around her his body grazing against hers, burning her with his heat. Lust coursed through her veins and she felt the ever familiar tightening between her legs and looked up at him through her eyelashes. He started slightly, before gazing deeply back at her, like a deer caught in headlights… not that he knew what headlights were.

She reminded herself silently to breathe and turned her head away from him, looking down at the floor as he continued past out into the hallway. She inhaled sharply, trying not to sigh like a pitiful, love-crazed schoolgirl as he sauntered sexily towards the stairs leading up to the washroom.

Hermione quickly told Harry goodnight, abruptly leaving him alone and not a little confused, and damn near sprinted in the opposite direction towards Ginny's room where she seized her wand and turned to face the large mirror settled against the far wall in the younger girl's room. She used a simple and easy spell she had picked up to help smooth out her unruly curls before tying it up into a messy, yet appealing, bun, before taking off again out of her room and up the stairs to where Ron had just disappeared.

When she got up to the washroom she didn't hear any water running, but she did hear something else; something that made her heart pound and her panties wet. Muffled, deep animalistic grunts were coming from the other sound of the door, and Hermione was more than certain that it was Ron causing them and decided to press her ear up against the door so that she could catch every resonance. She nearly died at what she heard next.

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Ron felt as if he was never going to make it to the washroom and that his dick would just explode from the strain of his jeans. As soon as he made it into the overly-white bathroom he magicked his jeans off, unable to get his zipper down the manual way, and breathed a sigh of freedom before glancing down. His manhood stood tall and proud, pointing straight up at him. He leaned back against the sink, turning away from the mirror and closed his eyes, envisioning Hermione's beautiful round face, as he took his rock hard member in his hand and started moving.

His breathing became labored as he continued pumping, harder and faster, grunting with exertion as he tried to picture what Hermione full, white breasts would look like. He groaned softly and emitted a soft "Hermione" from his lips as he gave himself a firm squeeze, allowing his eyes to roll back slightly before closing them completely. He gave himself over to the pleasure and was nearing ever closer to his orgasm when, suddenly the door opened, revealing to him the most enticing creature in all of existence. He could literally die of mortification.

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(A/N: Ok, so for the end, no more switching POVs, it's giving me a headache, bleh.... and I don't think I'm very good at it. Lol.)

Upon hearing her name being whispered from the other side of the door she found her courage and turned the knob handle, only to find it locked. _Well shit_, she thought to herself only to recover quickly and uttered a quiet "Alohamora" and walking straight inside. She stopped dead when she saw Ron standing there in all his glory, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, face red with exertion, pants abandoned on the floor, shirt in the sink, leaning back with his very erect dick in his hands, pumping fast and furious (A/N: lol, couldn't help myself!) while chanting her name like a prayer…. A prayer that quickly escalated to a hysterical shriek.

"Hermione! What the bloody hell are you doing!?" He shouted at her, only to have her walk over and clamp her delicate little hand tightly over his mouth. He could smell her skin and his cock twitched in his hand. He groaned against her hand.

She pulled away with a look on her face the same as it had been in his room; he realized now it was a look of lust and his cock grew harder, if possibly, to a point where it was painful. She turned back to the door and locked it, pointing her wand at it and muttering something under her breath before turning back to him. She stood still, looking him up and down, admiring his nude body beneath her thorough gaze, starting from his bare feet, up over his long, hard member, his slightly cut stomach, his flat chest, and, God, those arm muscles. Up, up, up to look at his face, pink and flustered and shining with sweat. She bit her lip and moved closer to him, pushing her hips against his naked manhood and swiveling them slightly, eliciting a groan of pleasure from him. She had never been more terrified in her life. She had never been so brave, either.

"I love you Ron," she whispered in his ear and gazed back at him with a look of apprehension, lust, and fear. What if he didn't feel the same?

"I've wanted you for so long; you're all I ever think about. I think about all the time. When I study, when I eat… I dream about us together like this in my sleep… please…. Say something." For a while he had been unable to be he obliged, for her. Always, anything for her.

"I love you too, Hermione," he whispered, his throat tight, his lungs feeling as if they might burst, and not to mention the throbbing pain in his dick.

He leaned forward and kissed her as hard as he could, trying to remember all the advice his older brothers had given to him about girls. Don't suffocate her, George had once said… and be careful with your teeth, Fred had told him. He placed his hands on her hips as his mouth pressed to hers, sliding his tongue along her bottom lip, begging for entrance she happily granted. He slid his tongue over hers and they tangled together playfully as his hands drew her closer grinding his hard dick against her lower stomach.

Hermione moaned into his mouth and moved her hand down over his bare chest, scratching lightly, delighting in the sound it drew from his lips, over his hip bones to grasp his hard, warm member in her little hand. She began to twist her wrist, sliding her hand up and down on his dick, as his hands pulled at the hem of her t-shirt.

She stepped back allowing him to draw her shirt up over her head before moving her hands behind herself, unclasping the buttons (A/N: Where I'm from… they are called buttons) on the back of her bra and peeling the fabric away from her heaving chest. She stood there, twitching slightly as Ron looked at her half naked body appraisingly, and she felt a sudden stab of insecurity and was just about to cover herself when Ron wrapped his hand round the back of her neck pulling her into a mind blowing kiss. She moaned loudly into his mouth and bucked her hips as his hands cupped her breasts, pinching her nipples lightly.

By now her panties were completely soaked through and she pulled back her head to breathe, allowing him access to her long neck, while her fingers sought the buttons on her jeans. However, once she reached the zipper, she felt Ron's hands tugging hers away and lifting them over her head as he walked her backwards until he back was against the wall.

"Let me do it," he purred at her and she just about died. He kissed down over her collarbone to her breast where he flicked his tongue over one nipple and breathing a gust of air against it. She cried out and pushed her lower half against him, grinding her pelvis as one leg hitched up over his hip. Ron grabbed onto her thigh and held her close as he suckled one nipple, then the next, reveling in the wondrous sounds she was making… Sounds that he caused. Nothing gave him more pleasure than knowing he could make her feel this way.

He continued his downward descent over her body, leaving a trail of kisses across the flat expanse of her stomach, his heart jumping with delight at her shrill squeal when he kissed her belly button, until he reached the edge of her jeans. He tugged at the fabric with his teeth, removing the button from its hole and pulling down the zipper. He place loving, butterfly kisses along her panty-line as he drew her jeans down, before hitching her leg up over his shoulder and kissing her soft inner thigh. She sighed and rolled her head back and to the sighed. Taking that as a sign of encouragement, he sucked on the skin on her thigh, eliciting the most erotic sound from her mouth. He tugged her at her completely drenched panties until they were down around her ankles, tossing them somewhere behind him before turning his attentions back to her.

Her pussy was dripping wet with love juices, her small round area of curls, stuck to her skin from the wetness, her lips shining from her own lubrication. He leaned forward until his face was right against her, and Hermione was sure heart was going to stop as his tong darted up and licked up her slit to her small bundle of nerves. She hissed loudly and tugged hard on his hair, which only seemed to egg him on, as he soon after buried his tongue deeply inside her, swirling around and out to suck on her tiny pink clit.

"Oh Ron," she mewled quietly as she panted and plucked at her nipples. She whimpered again as his finger slid inside her, filling her slightly, but not near enough as she wanted… She needed all of him.

"Please… please, Ron. Take me. Take all of me. I need you to," she begged softly as he licked and sucked and fingered her tight pussy.

He pulled away, kissing her softly over her lower abdomen once, then her lips as she before she spoke. "With pleasure, love," he whispered softly against her cheek, nuzzling his face against her soft skin.

"Are you sure this is what you want? In my bathroom of all places?" he asked her, half jokingly, as he picked her up and placed her lovingly on the large white fur rug his mother had put in the middle of the floor. He had always thought it ostentatious and out of place in the bathroom, but he was grateful for it now, for it was most comfortable.

"Ron, I'll want you no matter where we are," she said truthfully between soft kisses. "Your bathroom, my bathroom, my bedroom, your bedroom, the library at school, the common room couch, the dungeons at nighttime, by the lake… you name it, and I want it."

He grinned goofily at her before leaning down, capturing her full, swollen lips in another heated kiss, while rubbing his member against he slit, his tip coming to brush her clit with ever movement. She mewed loudly and pushed back against him, making him grunt with pleasure and primal need.

She was ready, he was ready, and they both knew it. He pulled back slightly to look into her lovely dark eyes before easing slowly into her. Her face twisted slightly as he pushed against her barrier, tearing it as he filled her completely. He held completely still allowing her to adjust, but it didn't take long; the pain wasn't as bad as most girls exaggerated it to be. After about a minute or less she pushed up against him, signaling him to move and creating a most pleasant sensation in her wet and eager sex. He began thrusting into her at a set pace, groaning softly against her neck as she clawed her nails down his back, crying out loudly.

"Oh! Oh, Ron… oh… Fuck! More… more," she cried out keenly as he began pounding faster and harder, turning her please for more into unintelligible cries of lust and want.

"Fuck, 'Mione, Fuck…" he growled against her neck as he felt his cock swell with his impending climax. "Fuck, love, I'm coming… God you feel so tight… Fuck!"

"Fuck… yes! I'm coming too… God I'm coming… oh, oh, oh… uhn! AAH!!! She bit into his should as he pounded against her as hard as he could. She came incredibly hard, milking his cock to the point of pain, bringing him to his own release.

Afterwards they both laid there, a hot, sweaty mess, their legs tangled intimately, his forehead pressed into her neck, her hands gently rubbing his back muscles. After a few minutes he pulled out, causing her to whimper with loss, at which he kissed her forehead, cheeks, nose, lips, ears… everything.

"Oh shit!" he pulled back suddenly. "What if they heard us?"

"Relax," she said lazily from her position on the floor, a contented look on her face, like the cat that ate the canary. "I put a muffling charm on it. Now let's take a bath, you're all sweaty."

He smiled broadly at her and leaned down to give her a kiss before helping her up and turning on the water, adapting the temperature to suit her. He put his hands up and lifted her up into the tub before crawling in after her, washing her hair and massaging her shoulders, all the while whispering how much he would always love her.

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A/N: END!!!! FIN!!! Woot… This chapter was much longer… and yeah, the ending is kind of sappy… but I write romances, not erotica, so there you have it. Do you like it? It is DEFINITELY done now.


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